


Little and broken, but still good.

by trulybliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Alive, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Insecurity, M/M, Pre-Slash, pocket Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulybliss/pseuds/trulybliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why does this keep happening to him? Well, ok, to be fair this specifically hasn’t ever happened before. But, it would be one helluva understatement to say that Stiles Stilinski was getting really sick and tired of all the supernatural bullshit going on in his town." </p><p>or </p><p>The one where Stiles is in a magical hit and run and left pocket sized. Emotions ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little and broken, but still good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to callmejude for being my beta, but any mistakes (if any) are my own.  
> Obviously I don't own Teen Wolf.

Little and broken, but still good. 

Why does this keep happening to him? Well, ok, to be fair this specifically hasn’t ever happened before. But, it would be one helluva understatement to say that Stiles Stilinski was getting really sick and tired of all the supernatural bullshit going on in his town. 

First it was just werewolves. Ha! And isn’t that a laugh, that he’s reached a point in his life where werewolves were the least of his worries now. But honestly, they put Peter down. Dealt with the Kanima and its psycho oldbag master, Gerard. Oh and don’t forget the return of everyone’s least favorite uncle, Peter part two the sass master was back! All the drama that came with Broody McSourwolf and his band of misfit pups seemed like a walk in the park in comparison. 

This is of course where Stiles made his first mistake, he went for a freaking walk in the park! No, the walk wasn’t the mistake and it wasn’t the park’s fault Stiles let his guard down. He had assumed that surely the universe would cut him a break and maybe give him one summer off from all the supernatural drama after the year he’d had. But no, it was too much to ask that he would be able to walk himself home from the station after spending the afternoon pretending to file paperwork just so he could squeeze in a couple extra hours with his dad. 

One minute he’s taking a shortcut through the park, walking heel-toe on a short raised wall lining the path and debating what he’ll do when he gets home. The next he’s flat on his back laying in the dirt, his ears ringing like someone had hit him in the head with frying pan … yanno, like in a cartoon. Whatever, forget it. The point is Stiles felt down for the count and he hadn’t even heard the bell. 

The ground was swaying beneath him, as his skin burned as he fought to keep his heart from dancing up out of his throat. This meant his mouth was firmly shut against the wails banging around in his head and the bittersweet taste of sick on his tongue. Which, in the long run, was all the better in the end he supposed in a moment of panicked clarity. He may wake up from this nightmare covered in blood, but there was no reason to add vomit into the mix as well. 

When everything stopped spinning and Stiles was able open his mouth to suck in deep shuddering breaths without fear of coughing up an organ he chanced opening his eyes. To be fair, he hadn’t realized he’d closed them in the first place. But, now that he’d opened them he kinda wished he hadn’t. 

The trees looming over him, silhouetted against a purpling sky, were huge. Not in the way old trees are normally big. Stiles’ was born and raised in Beacon Hills, he could measure his life by the slow and steady growth of these trees. But the trees he was looking up at now, well, they seemed to have gotten a one up on him, towering over him like sky scrappers. Turning his head to the side slightly he could see the stone ledge he’d fallen off of, it couldn’t have been more then half a foot high just moments ago. Now it stood like a wall of stone before him, at least 6 feet high. What the everloving fuck had just happened?! 

When Stiles moved to inspect the wall he unfortunately discovered another problem. He was naked, buck ass nude, in the middle of the park. Lord, if anyone found him like this his dad was going to kill him! But, how did he end up like this, because while Stiles forgets things sometimes he’s pretty sure he put on clothes this morning. That’s when he noticed it, the nest of his clothes that he was lying in, clothes fit for a giant. But that’s not right, because he had been wearing them earlier, before the wall and trees all grew. Before he got hit by some sort of invisible force … oh are you serious!? The wall didn’t grow! Stiles shrunk! As he gaped down at his body, while still perfectly intact and relatively unharmed, he was now a fraction of his original size. In fact, based on the wall he was now maybe 6 inches tall. 

Well fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do? It was getting dark and he was alone in the park naked and tiny, there was a joke about shrinkage in there somewhere but Stiles didn’t really feel up to sussing it out right now. He needed to find help. 

It may of taken Stiles a shamefully long amount of time to remember that he had his phone in his front pocket. But, even if it had, I mean come on he had just gotten shrunk down to the size of a chipmunk so it's not like you could blame him for needing a minute. Unfortunately his downsizing didn't upgrade him with anything useful like relative ant strength. This meant that even after what felt like a lifetime of pulling and pushing and trying to maneuver his phone, he could not get it out of his pocket. Still, Stiles was nothing if not resourceful as well as more flexible then a squid. Seriously, the places he'd managed to squeeze himself into, It was the bane of his parents existence growing up. So if he could not get the phone out he'd simply have to go in himself.

After managing to wedge himself in along side his phone he sent a silent thank you to who ever was watching over him. They might get off on watching him suffer, but at least he didn't get another slider after sacrificing his last phone in the pool incident. Bitches. 

Pressing 2 then call took a lot more strength then stiles had assumed but thankfully the phone started ringing out. 

Ring 

Ring 

'You've reached Scott McCall, sorry I'm unavailable, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.' 

'Oh my god!' Stiles shouted in rage, 'Scott you furry assed little fffffff you just ignored me! We talked about this damn it!' Pressing 2 and call again Stiles prayed for Scott's sake that he pick up this time. 'Seriously dude, I will put wolfsbane in your toilet paper! Pick. Up. Your. Phone!' 

Ring

'You've reached Scott-' 

'FUCKING HELL, SCOTT!' Who else was he supposed to call?! 'Oh hey dad, listen I'm in the park and I might have been magically shrunken which I'm pretty sure has something to do with werewolves but I digress, could you come get me before I freeze?' Yeah right. He probably would freeze if the way the wind had just picked up was anything go by. Wanting to know just how close to death he was Stiles decided to poke his head out of his pocket, just for a moment. This was a mistake.

Teeth. Fur and yellow eyes and lots of giant sharp looking teeth hung an arms length away from his face in the form of a stray black cat. A stray cat that was now the size of a horse compared to him. And it looked hungry. 

In the span of second the beast lunged forward, claws extended and ready to rip into soft vulnerable flesh. Ducking back into his pocket as fast as he could Stiles had a moment of stark clarity and couldn't help the hysterical laugh that bubbled up out of him. Of all the ways to go, after everything he'd survived, he was going to die because of a cat. 

Obviously intent on the capture of its future meal, the cat latched on to Stiles' pants and began shaking them back and forth vigorously. Stiles screamed as he was thrown back and forth, desperately clinging to his phone to prevent braining himself on it. 'This is it,' he thought 'fuck' before the world went dark.   
...   
Life came back slowly then all at once in a spill of light and sounds. His head was swimming and his body ached, but if he was in pain then he must still be alive so that's a plus. That or he was in hell, which lets be fair, he just might be. It's as he lay still taking stock of what he was feeling that he was addressed. 

'Your breathing changed, you may be small but I can still hear it. I know you're awake, Stiles.' A familiar voice drawled. Derek fucking Hale. Yeah, hell was sounding more likely right about now. But, when Stiles opened his eyes nothing more then unassuming beige walls and exposed brick work surrounded him.

'Where are we?' Stiles asked, sure he'd never seen this place before. Sitting up and glancing around the open and spartan space, he was reminded vaguely of the railway station Derek had been hiding out at. Blank walls with a sort of decaying industrial look complete with exposed beams, pipes and pillars.

'My loft. It's new.' 

'New doesn't really look like it applies here, but hey its very you. I'd say all it needs is a little TLC and it'll be perfect but judging by the hole in that wall I'd say you've already made it home. Hey, no frills needed man. Simple. Besides, it's a big step up from your last place.' Derek huffed an incredulous laugh cutting off Stiles's nervous rambling. He had been, up until now, avoiding looking reality in the face but with a sigh he turned his head up to stare down the tall dark and wolfy truth in the face. Derek, who normally stood nearly at eye level with Stiles now loomed over him like some sort of giant. Some sort of grumpy monobrowed giant.

'You got shrunk and you want to talk about my décor?' 

'Well one of these things can be fixed by a run to Target.' 

'Just tell me what happened.' 

'Why do you sound like you're blaming me for this?' And if that silent raised eyebrow wasn't just a slap in the face! 'I didn't do anything wrong! Can't a guy walk home without getting hit from behind by some sort of bullshit that turns him tiny? I just wanted to go home and debate on what frozen meal to make! Not worry about becoming one to whatever feral animal crossed my path! Now I'm the size of a shit and what the hell am I supposed to do?!' It was getting hard to breathe, but Stiles was so fucking over being the victim. 'Oh I know, let's pick on the poor defenseless human who's stupid enough to run around with a pack of werewolves! Want to get him to shut up? Throw him into a wall! Need him gone for a couple hours? Hit him over the head with a piece of his car! Want to send a message? Kidnap him and beat the shit out of him! It doesn't matter! He doesn't ma- OOF!' It was at this point Derek had apparently seen fit to shut Stiles up by trying to squish him. It's not like you could blame him, I mean it had obviously worked. Plus the steady weight on Derek's hand holding him was kind of comforting. But as soon as it had appeared it was gone leaving Stiles on him back staring up at the stricken look on Derek's face. 

'I just meant to pat your head.' He stated staring down at Stiles like he'd killed a puppy. 'You were-'

'No I know, panic attacks man, not fun. Hard to stop myself when I get going, you did good. Actually if you wouldn't mind maybe you could keep doing that for a little longer though.' Stiles surprised himself with that one. 

'What, just hold you down?' 

'Yeah, I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but it's kind of nice.' Stiles felt so stupid for even asking, what was his life coming to asking Derek to pin him down till he stopped panicking. But without complaint Derek reached back and placed his hand back over him. 

Obviously with much care he gently applied enough weight to hold Stiles without hurting him. 

'This helps?' Derek asked 

'Yeah, the weight, its grounding. Kinda like a really tight hug.' 

'Like an anchor.' It wasn't a question, but Stiles felt himself nodding anyway. He wasn't sure at what rate time was passing, he never really was. He just lied there letting Derek's hand hold him together while he accepted the situation. He could hear birds outside, birds probably big enough to swoop down and carry him away now. Hell, he could practically fit in Derek's hand now, his palm reaching from collar bone to above his knees. Derek had surprisingly soft hands, the skin pressing against his belly felt like a well loved quilt. Wait ... 

'I'm naked.' Derek's hand tenses over Stiles at this.

'I found you that way.' Derek snaps. 

'Hey now, don't worry, I'm not accusing you of anything untoward, big guy. I actually remember the naked part. Apparently clothes don't shrink with you unless you're Ant-man. Learn something new every day!' Stiles laughed, defaulting to humor now that the panic had subsided. He even had the wherewithal to finally take in his immediate surroundings. I.E. flat on his back in what appeared to be a nest made of his own shirt. 

Patting Derek on the back of the hand, a nonverbal signal that the worst had passed, Stiles grabbed a handful of the fabric and pulled it over himself. A comic attempt at preserving what little dignity he still had. 

'Thanks for that.' Stiles forced himself to say though he couldn't bring himself to look at Derek as he did so. He was used to taking care of himself. Being alone was ideal, but it's what Stiles knew and at least no one was there to see him at his weakest that way. 'So, how did you find me anyway? Last I recall I was pretty sure death by cat was going to be my fate. Which, can I say, worst way to go, let's be real.'

'Getting eaten by an animal wouldn't be a shameful way to go. Besides, it was hardly your first time.' Derek cracks smirking down at him.

'Oh look at you! Alpha's got jokes now, does he? But yes, you were quite the gentlemen compared, then again you didn't even get to third base so.' 

'Well I've got you naked now don't I?' Derek's laugh surprised them both. Stiles was used to dishing out the wit, only to have it hit the impenetrable force field of Derek Hale where it would fizzle and die mid air. But this, this was different, maybe Scott wasn't the only one trying to grow this summer. 'But yes, that's basically how I found you. I was out for a run when I heard you screaming. It was so faint I wasn't sure where you were but I followed it until I came across a stray tearing at a pile of clothes that reeked of you. You'd stopped screaming by this point but your smell was thickest there and I thought I could hear your heartbeat. I chased the cat off and checked your clothes for some sort of clue when I found you miniaturized, passed out and clutching your phone. I pulled you out and wrapped you up in your shirt, you seemed fine, except for the obvious. I tried calling Scott but-' 

'Ha! Good old Scott. Yeah, I tried that too before Shere Khan found me. Then again, you should know by now what good it does calling Scott when you actually need him.' 

'Well, I didn't really know what to do with you, it's not like I was just going to leave you like that, so I brought you here.' Stiles didn't really know what to say to that either. The Derek of a year ago would have defiantly left Stiles. Probably wouldn't have even come running at the sound of his screams. Wouldn't have saved him like that ... Right? But here he was, bundled up in the safety of Derek's space, whole, hardy and making sex jokes thanks to the man he'd accused of murder. Twice. Although to be fair those had both been mostly thanks to Scott. Maybe he'd been judging him too harshly. Maybe he was just as prone to mistakes and faults, just human like everyone else ... Well mostly. 

Thankfully that train of thought derailed with the sound of a loud door being slammed closed. 

'Is that Thumbilina I hear waking from her slumber?' Called out a voice that still haunted Stiles's nightmares.

'Well if it isn't the walking dead himself. How's it hanging Peter? Or is it even still hanging? Please tell me it rotted and fell off before you made your grand return.' Stiles snipped back.

'Oh tetchy, someone's not happy first thing in the morning.' Peter laughed walking into Stiles view. Isaac stumbled in quickly behind him carrying a large paper bag in his arms which he deposited on the same table Stiles was laying on and shooting him a warm smile. Though they weren't exactly friends, once he'd calmed down from the big change Isaac really was warming on him. Much like Scott, he was just a giant puppy and who didn't love that? 

'Did you find anything on patrol?' Derek asked Peter as Isaac started rifling through his bag. 

'No.' Peter sighed 'We didn't find anything to explain this.' He gestured to Stiles with a flick of his wrist. 'But I got breakfast so we can call it even.'

'Oh did you catch a deer?' Stiles sneered. Peter laughed, reaching into the bag Isaac was still rooting though and pulling out a donut, huge and glistening with icing. 

'No, nothing but sweets for my sweet.' And with that he held the pastry directly above him before letting it drop. Stiles flinched, pulling his legs in tight, expecting the heavy blow. Thankfully though the werewolfs aim was perfect, and with a rush of air and loud sticky plop, he was surrounded by a cage of sugar. 

'Oh my god! That could have crushed me!' 

'Now that would've been the way to go.' Derek chuckled reaching out and taking the donut Isaac was offering.

'Seriously? Not helping, dude. Can't you go tie your crazy uncle up outside where he belongs?' 

'I wish.' Isaac scoffed before stuffing an entire donut into his mouth. 

Conversation pretty much ended there as the three werewolves tore into their bounty. 2 boxes of donuts, three pints of milk, a six pack of Starbucks expresso double shots and who knows how many breakfast tacos that were literally dripping in grease. It was like Peter had bought out a gas station before coming here. Which honestly half surprised him, Peter at a gas station at all just seemed wrong for some reason. Stiles pictured Peter eating only the fanciest of fare, shit garnished with figs or something! But here he was, fingers stained orange with grease, knocking back a pint of chocolate milk straight from the carton. Life was weird. 

Speaking of, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he turned to the giant ring of doughy goodness still encircling him. There was no way to go about it neatly, but considering his current company, Stiles shrugged. When in Rome, right? And dove face first into the sugary beast tearing at it with teeth and fingers like claws. Glaze clung to his face, chest and arms a mockery of gore. 

'You see that, you're a natural, Stiles. You'd make an excellent wolf!' Peter laughed, though his eyes told a different story. 

'Yeah, 'at's what you said that night you offer'd me da bite. My answer still stands.' Stiles mumbled through a mouthful, glaring the man down. Something about Peter's eyes always kind of scared him, like he was looking into the eyes of a monster, and it was hungry. 

'You offered him the bite?' Derek's voice had gone cold and suddenly the tension in the room was palatable. 'Isaac, take Stiles to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Peter and I need to talk.' He bit out and in a heartbeat Isaac was up and rushing to grab Stiles and carry him from the room.

'What was that about?' 

'Shhh!' Isaac chastised as he lingered near the door of the bathroom, obviously eavesdropping on the two men down the hall. 'Derek’s pretty upset.' 

'What? Cause Peter offered me the bite? Rude! I'd make a great werewolf if I wanted to be!' 

'I don't think that's why, Stiles.' Isaac scoffed. 'Anyway, we should get you cleaned up. It's not like we'll be going out there anytime soon.' 

Looking down at himself, cradled in Isaac's cupped palms he had to agree, he had sugar crusting into the soft hairs on his belly and wouldn't that just be a bitch if he didn't wash up. 

'Alright, how do you wanna do this?' 

'I could, um help? With a wash cloth?' 

'Oh no! No man, just no. I appreciate the help and the offer. Hell, dude you're holding me naked in your hands right now and totally not being a dick about it, but I won't have you wash me. I'm shrunk, not incapacitated.' A level of tension eased out of Isaac at that. Stiles knew he would have followed through with that offer too, no matter how awkward. He's a good kid, that one. Glancing around the bathroom, as industrial and sparsely decorated as the rest of the loft, Stiles hit gold in the form of an oversized coffee mug next to the sink holding a bar of soap. 'Fill that up with soapy water and I'll take care of the rest, my man.' 

Half an hour after Isaac drew Stiles a makeshift bath and left him to the task at hand found Stiles sitting curled up in the warm water with nothing but his thoughts, which was never a safe place to be. The sugar had washed away quickly and while he tried to relax all Stiles could do was turn the past 24 hours events over in his head, picking them apart relentlessly.

What was Derek doing? First he pulls this hero card out of nowhere, chasing down the sound of Stiles's of screams, saving him and bringing him back to the safety of his ... Den. He helped calm Stiles during his panic attack. He even made jokes! But when Peter shows up and references The possibility of Stiles belonging as a more permanent fixture he panics and reverts to his sour old self. Way to give the guy emotional whiplash! 

Derek was probably just turned off by this whole random attack. He probably saw Stiles as weak and unable to protect himself, which he may have a point there. No one would want to have to worry about keeping that around ... Actually, no. No! Fuck that! Stiles was awesome! Look at the way he trained Scott, he'd been the one to help bring Peter down, and he handled himself pretty well with the kanima, we won't mention psycho grandpa. No, Stiles rocked and anyone who couldn't see that could just fuck off. 

It was of course at this point that Derek would knock at bathroom door. 

‘You haven’t drowned yet have you?’ He asks as he lets himself in.

‘I wasn’t going to drown in a bath! How stupid do you really think I am, Derek?’ Stiles snaps back. ‘I know you think I’m an idiot, but do give me some credit. I’ve been bathing myself for eleven years! I can manage without your snark thank you very much.’

‘Alright big shot, you want help drying off and maybe getting dressed or are you going to jump down my throat every time I try to help you?’ Derek shoots back seemingly unfazed. 

‘Yeah well maybe if you didn’t treat me like the dirt on your shoes I’d be more inclined to believe you actually wanted to help. And you wonder why Scott and I thought you were a murderer. ’ Derek rolled his eyes so hard at that Stiles’s was sure he sprained something. “See, you’re doing to right now! You’re dismissing me. I don’t count, right? I’m just the stupid weak little human that keeps getting caught up in all you big badass wolf shit, aren't I? Shut up, Stiles! Get out of the way, Stiles! You can’t help anyone, Stiles! All I’m good for is being your fall guy! The idiot that falls into bullshit traps and gets himself kidnapped or beat up or fucking shrunken cause lord knows I try but I can’t seem to get a single fucking thing right anymore!” chest heaving Stiles hadn’t realized he’d been screaming at the top of his lungs. His body was wound tight and fists were clenched hard enough that his nails had probably broken skin. He was shaking and distantly he knew he was crying. He didn’t want to cry in front of Derek, but there was no helping it by this point. 

Speaking of Derek, the jerk had frozen mid movement sometime during Stiles’s diatrade. Wide eyes were locked on Stiles as he stood rigid and pale. Then, as if he was approaching a wild animal that could be spooked easily, Derek reached a hand out and scooped Stiles from the water. Held carefully in a firm grasp, as if he were something precious and fragile Derek brought Stiles to his chest, or more accurately one of his perfectly defined pecs. This is where Derek held him, pressed into a wall of soft but solid muscle. 

‘Are-Are you hugging me?’ Stiles asked as let his face rest on the wall of Derek. 

‘I couldn’t hold you down, you were sitting in a pool of water!’ He barks out in reply, his voice holding an edge that Stiles could’ve easily mistaken for hysterical if he didn’t know better. ‘This is ok, right?’ Derek murmured, still holding Stiles to his heart. Like a promise, he thought as he let Derek’s heart beat ease him off the edge. ‘yeah, it’s ...’ 

Perfect.  
…  
‘I couldn’t just sit around naked,’ holding his arms out so Derek and Isaac could get a proper look ‘does it look stupid?’ Derek had produced a large strip of soft fabric after Stiles’s bath and with a little finesse, and a safety pin to hold it together in the front, Stiles had managed to whip himself up a makeshift toga. It wasn’t high fashion certainly but it was warm and covered all his bits up. Which, after that hug, was weirdly important to Stiles. Just thinking of Derek holding him close like that again stirred something familiar in his gut that … well Stiles really didn’t have time to think about that right now. Get back to normal size, then deal with your confusing boner feelings for certain sour wolves, Stiles.   
Speaking of, Derek was looking extra scowly, arms crossed and jaw tight as he glared down at Stiles. Isaac wasn’t looking much better, he’d gone red in the face and was practically vibrating as if he was on the verge of exploding any second. 

Then he did, and it was ugly. Obnoxiously loud laughter ripped out of Isaac and shook him so hard his curls bounced as he tried to stay upright. It was a futile effort and soon the boy lay on the ground, tears pricking at his eyes as he howled with laughter. Looking back to Derek, as if the alpha could really do anything about his pup, Stiles was struck by an amazing sight. Derek; cheeks flushed, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut and mouth open as nearly silent giggles rocketed through him. 

He was beautiful. 

Shit. 

Making a completely rational decision, Stiles turned and ran. Oh course he has been perched on the desk in the living room at the time so he didn’t have far to go before he ran out of space. Thankfully there was a basket of clothes sitting next to the desk so Stiles made a jump for it.   
His landing was a little off center causing the basket to tumble to the side spilling Stiles and a pile of, thankfully clean, shirts out onto the ground. Putting all that lacrosse practice to good use Stiles managed a move that would’ve made Coach cry, turning his tumble into a roll that had him back up on his feet so he could keep running. He made a beeline for the spiral staircase in the corner of the room, throwing himself under the steps and plastering himself in the corner. 

Smooth, Stiles.   
…   
Isaac had spent a few minutes trying to coax Stiles out with whines, pouts and great big puppy dog eyes. But, thanks to years of friendship with Scott, Stiles was nearly immune to such tactics. Partially from stubbornness and partially from embarrassment at his over reaction Stiles sat huddled against the far corner. Eventually Isaac gave up with a huff and trudged off to his room and Stiles was left well and truly alone.   
It was stupid, Stiles knew that. But, he already felt so small, this was just a low blow. I mean, you wake up one day and suddenly you’re the weakest member in your group of friends. Hell, even Lydia was stronger then him and she was human! Probably ... But to be reduced to the size of a mouse was just a slap in the face. He just wanted to help and all he managed to do was end up underfoot. Laugh it up universe! Laugh at the sad mockery that is my life! Maybe if he was lucky he’d just continue to shrink until he winked out of existence entirely. 

It was at this point in Stiles’s self-deprecating inner monologue that it happened. A single chocolate chip rolled under the stairs and bumped into his leg. Picking it up, it was about the size of a large apple in his hands. Foregoing his pity party for now, Stiles stood and walked out from under the stairs to investigate. 

A few feet from the stairs, laying flat on his stomach, chin resting on crossed arms, was Derek. Derek Hale, who for all the world looked like he belonged in a soap opera christmas special right now for alien softness of his features. Hell even the midday light pouring in the windows was hitting him just right, he looked ethereal, like he was actually glowing or some shit! And even though his face was set in the most passive expression he’d ever seen Derek show, you could see the blinding smile in his eyes. 

Momentarily stunned by the strange sight before him, Stiles’s steps slowed to a stop. 

‘What?’ Stiles blurted out before he had a chance to stop himself, but tried to play it off all the same by shakily lifting the chocolate chip in his hands in way of explanation. Derek simply shrugged before pulling a hand from under his chin and popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth. That little bitch! Was he-? No, Derek wasn’t flirting with Stiles, that was for sure. Derek would never ever in a million years do that. But playing him like that was absolutely uncalled for! Well two could play this game. 

Allowing himself to blush as he cast his eyes down at the candy in his hands Stiles called forth everything in him he could muster to make himself seem meek and flustered. If Derek wanted to play big bad alpha then Stiles would be the simpering little red. Slowly walking forward he made sure to keep his eyes trained anywhere but Derek’s face until he was standing close enough to touch. Stiles lifted his eyes and peered up at Derek through his lashes, letting out a slow shaky breath, that if he was being honest he really didn’t need to fake. Derek really was beautiful. Stiles has never been this close to him before, and that’s saying something considering how many times the great brute had pinned him to walls in the past. But, here in this moment as he looked up into Derek’s eyes, and he felt Derek’s exhales warming his face, he wished this wasn’t pretend. He wished that he could be this close to the real Derek all the time, the one well hidden beneath leather jackets and growls. Stiles wanted to the privilege of getting to be there for Derek when he was vulnerable, not just when he was weak. 

Stiles swallowed down that desire and buried it deep alongside every other dream he knew would never come true. Taking a deep breath he moved as quickly as he could, shoving the chocolate up Derek’s nostril and grabbing hold of the cookie he released from between his teeth when he startled. Jumping back and landing on his ass with a thump and a lap full of most of a cookie Stiles brust into a fit of laughter so strong it brought tears to his eyes as he watching Derek curse and fumble with his nose, trying to dislodge the offending candy. 

‘What the fuck, Stiles?!’ 

‘They say chocolate is bad for dogs, good to know the same thing applies to werewolves!’ Stiles managed to spit out before falling to his side in another fit of painful laughter. Once he finally recovered, Derek had managed to right himself and was glaring daggers at him. 

‘Well, that’s what you get for thinking I was going to eat your pity floor chocolate.’ Stiles smiled smugly as he bit into his well earned treat. Rolling his eyes Derek reached out and broke the cookie in half, taking back a portion for himself and shoving it back in his mouth with an obnoxious pop. 

‘Would’ve made yourself sick if you’d tried to eat the whole thing.’ he said in way of explanation, before pulling another cookie out from under his arms. The two of them sat in silence, slowly making their way through their snack as the sun rose higher in the sky outside. 

‘Why does it bother you so much?’ Derek asked, still watching the skyline. It was a fair question, it’s not like he was cursed with something fatal but ... 

‘I already felt small, inferior. It's a big world out there, Derek, and it just keeps getting bigger. I mean at first I was just a normal nobody, then I was a nobody with the werewolf for a best friend. Now there's a whole pack of you! I want to help I really do but I can't do anything. I can’t even help myself now. I just keep getting smaller and smaller ...’ Stiles trailed off awkwardly cringing at his tendency to overshare in moments of weakness. But for some reason he felt like maybe he could trust Derek with this. 

‘If it helps, you still have the biggest mouth I have ever seen.’ or maybe not.   
…  
‘Deaton should be closing soon, I called him earlier, we’ll go by for him to examine you later. I’m sure he’ll have a fix for this.’

‘Yeah, but don’t count on him telling me what it is. I mean, I get the whole cryptic thing is cool and mystic or whatever. But, would it kill the man to give us a straight answer just once?’

‘Probably. And if it didn’t kill him, I’m sure once of us would keel over from shock.’

The ride to the vet’s office was fairly uneventful. Except for the seating arrangements. Unfortunately, and understandably, they don’t make booster seats for people smaller than a Barbie doll. That meant to ensure Stiles didn’t tumble off of his seat he had to ride in the front pocket of Derek’s henley. 

‘This is degrading.’ Stiles mumbled, knowing full well Derek would be able to hear him. 

‘Hmmm, maybe, but you’re safe so I’m ok with it.’ 

‘I’m sure my dad would be thrilled to hear you say that.’ he groused, allowing himself to sink completely into Derek where he was decidedly not pouting. 

The ride was too short for any self flagellation so instead Stiles rested his head against Derek’s chest and counted his heart beats. It was a trick he’d learned while his mom was in the hospital, it allowed him to push the chaos of his mind away and actually be still in a moment and rest.  
2334 beats later they were walking into the vet’s office. 

‘Ah Derek, right on time. Come on back.’ Stiles heard the wood gate swing open and he felt Derek’s movement but he didn’t dare poke himself out of the safety of his pocket until he was sure no one else would be able to see him. No need to freak out any stragglers picking up their poodles late or whatever. 

‘Derek? What are you doing here? And why do you smell like … Stiles?’ Ah good ol’ Scott. Stiles caught Derek side-eyeing him down in his pocket and couldn’t help but smile and Derek’s frown, like he’d just taken a bite of something and it tasted bitter, like a dense teenager.   
‘Derek is here looking for help with a little problem.’ 

‘Problem?! What is it now? Are we under attack again? Did you kill someone? Or wait, no, little problem? Like … little as in … oh! Can- can werewolves even get STDs?!’ To Derek’s credit his ability to keep a scowl in the face of Scott’s well meaning ineptitude was fairly impressive.   
‘Why don’t I just show you?’ 

‘No way man! I don’t need to see that?’ 

‘No Scott, really, I want you to see.’ Derek leered as he reached into his breast pocket, scooping Stiles out and presenting him to Scott on the palm of his hand. 

‘Hey Scott, buddy. STD stands for Stiles’s tiny dilemma right?’

As it turned out Deaton was about as helpful as Stiles had expected. While Scott and Derek bickered over pissing rights or whatever Deaton took to poking and prodding Stiles and occasionally humming to himself. 

‘Well doc, what’s the prognosis?’ 

‘I’m very impressed. I’ve never seen a living being as complex as a human made this size.’

‘Yeah, it’s a real Tom Thumb miracle. Now how about you be a pal and reverse it?’ 

‘No.’

‘Excuse me? You wanna run that by me again, doc? Cause I’m pretty you just said that you weren’t going to unshrink me and for the life of me that just doesn’t translate.’ Deaton leaned back from the exam table with a sigh. 

‘If you were listening a moment ago you would have heard me say that I have never seen a human being shrunken. I’m sorry Mr Stilinski but I can’t reverse it. I don’t posses the knowledge or skill to un-do such a complex curse.’ 

‘So what, Stiles has to stay like this forever? There has to be something we can do!’ Scott protested, but hope was fading fast in Stiles heart.   
While Deaton tried to explain to Scott how complicated the mechanics of shrinking something was, let alone something with a organs Stiles drifted in his mind for a moment. Who the fuck would even bother to do this to him? What was the point? He was just a dumb kid. 

Stiles felt a finger gently press down on the top of his head before smoothing a trail down his neck and back. Derek glanced down at him, face set in his normal semi scowl of frustration, but his eyes were soft. If anyone understood what it felt like to be hopeless it was Derek, who was reaching out and trying to comfort Stiles in the only way he knew how, by scenting him. Pack bonds were a funny thing. Where was the logic in ‘If you smell like me you’ll feel better’? And yet, he knew it worked, Scott was constantly bumping shoulders or touching his arm at whenever he got too stressed. He’d seen Isaac do it to Scott as well, subtle touches leaving lingering scents. No matter how much Scott fought it he was pack ... and Stiles and Scott were a package deal which meant Stiles wasn’t just some dumb kid ... He was a dumb kid who ran with wolves.   
…   
It was easy to get a moment alone thanks to well meaning idiots. Scott insisted that they check Deaton’s books for some sort of magic loophole fix. Derek reached over and laid one of his hands flat for Stiles for to sit on, his very own muscular chariot. 

‘Actually, do you mind if I stay here? I just need a minute, yanno?’ Stiles looked up into three pairs of eyes in varying shades of emotion. Scott, ever the puppy, looked down with eyes shining in empathy. ‘Yeah man take all the time you need.’ Derek bore a more confused look, Stiles was always the first to jump into research and any opportunity to look at Deaton’s secret library would be too good to pass up. His nod a silent testament to his obvious discomfort. ‘We’ll be in just the next room, Mr. Stilinski.’ Deaton’s sharp eyes caught his and while they didn’t give anything away Stiles saw understanding, the tale tell look that Stiles understood the situation and was about to do something very stupid. Or maybe he was just constipated, it was really had to read Deaton. 

Once everyone had left the room Stiles was left to wait. 

Deaton had helped in his inane round about way, pointing out just how complicated the spell was meant it was done with great purpose of forethought. Stiles wasn’t some random magical hit and run, he had been targeted. If his theory was correct, and let’s be real here he usually was, Stiles had been meant to be taken as bait for his pack of furry friends. Not ok. You could cut Stiles down to size all you want, but no one fucks with his friends and they certainly don’t use him to get to them! 

As if on cue, one of the high windows to the vet’s exam room slid open and a familiar feline slid silently in. With grace the black cat hopped down from the window, jumped off the counter and landed in front of Stiles. He suppressed the urge to snark about showing off, mindful of Deaton’s warning about werewolf hearing and proximity. Biting back the urge to make some sort of noise in protest at the cat darting forward and snatching him up in it’s teeth filled mouth was harder. Keeping his heartbeat steady and trying not to focus on the points pressing into his sides, Stiles pressed his hands over his mouth, breathing through his nose and went limp allowing the cat to pick him up like a dead mouse to be carried off and hopefully left at the feet of it’s master. 

They were already out of the window and across the parking lot when he heard Derek’s voice calling for him.   
…   
Surprisingly this was the calmest Stiles had been in the past 24 hours, dangling limply from the mouth of his captor. They’d been on the move for a while, through the preserve, across a stream and down it’s banks. Freaking cat knew how to throw off a trail! They made it to a clearing deep in the heart of the woods just before the sun set. Stiles was dropped unceremoniously from the maw of the beast onto the leaf strewn ground. 

‘Well that is no way to treat a guest.’ Stiles huffed, pointlessly dusting the dirt from his saliva soaked toga as he stood. 

‘Rude? Mayhaps your lateness be excuse enough.’ a lilting voice rang from across the clearing. 

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘I cannot. I have yet to see reason to excuse you, the boy who runs with wolves.’

‘The what now?’ In the distance a chorus of howls echoed in the night. Derek and Scott must have called in the whole pack for a rescue mission. One Stiles could hopefully avoid. 

‘You know of what I speak, boy.’ Into the clearing, lit on only by the rising moon, stepped a beautiful surreal figure. Tall and lithe with skin so pale it was nearly was almost blue, hair pure white and clad in sarong that hung low on bony hips and drug along the ground behind bare feet.   
‘Your friends call out for you.’ It’s mouth pulled in a knowing smile that burned Stiles. Never had he wanted to hit someone more than this moment. 

‘I don’t know who or what you are but if you even try to hurt them, I don’t care what it takes, I will end you.’ 

‘Bravery was to be expected, but it is not enough.’ It’s pale eyes looked down on Stiles, taunting him. 

‘Not enough? I doubt you’ll be singing the same tune when I break off a branch of rowan up your ass! It might not kill you, but I’d like to see how it wards off your evil spirit from the inside out.’ Stiles spat back ‘I may be human but I am a force of nature! I’m smarter, faster and stronger than you’d believe. Not to mention viciously loyal! Nothing and I mean nothing will stop me from defending what’s mine! How dare you think you can use me to get to my pack!’ Stiles was all out yelling by this point, breath coming quick, his anger a physical force inside him, pushing at his skin itching to get out. He felt swollen with it, heat building inside him as if he might explode at any moment. 

And then he did. 

Red hot light erupted from Stiles gut, engulfing him in it’s warmth. He felt as if he were being melted and stretched like plastic and every seam in him that split as he was pulled apart filled with the light. He couldn’t hear anything over the rapid beating of his heart, couldn’t see anything past the light. It was the most exquisite feeling all at once and then as suddenly as it began, it was over. Stiles stood still as the world around him wobbled back into place. Cool hands reached out and clasped one of his own, anchoring him.

Stiles opened his eyes to the piercing blue orbs of the figure before him. 

‘Indeed not.’ It smiled ‘Have no doubt, boy, they will come as I did. But, unlike I, theirs will not be a test. Take heed from this my words now, though strength you found in anger, love brought you to form time and again. Love heals all. Love of other and other’s love. Gird yourself in it, red, and be the shield your love demands. For pitiable fools they will be when they come against you and yours.’ Releasing his hand and turning away, the figure walked back across the clearing and into the woods. Looking down at his still outstretched hand, Stiles held a stone pendant. Etched into it, a circle surrounding a triskelion. 

Stiles could hear a stampede of feet crashing through the underbrush behind him. He turned into time to see Derek, Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd burst into the clearing. Jackson followed shortly after, carrying Lydia on his back, with a bow wielding Allison on their tail. Even Peter loped in behind them all. There were too many shouts of his name and questions to really distinguish one from the other and he was being swept up into a tight hug between Scott and Erica. 

‘So …’ Stiles wheezed out with what little air he was able to get in past the hug. ‘I think a magic Mr T just gave me it’s blessing on being pack.’   
…   
A week later found Stiles back in the park. He hadn’t returned since his magical jumping, but not for lack of trying. The pack was trying to find some sort of balance and using Stiles as foundation which meant Stiles hadn’t had a single moment to himself all week! 

The first night, after his anti-climatic rescue from the woods everyone followed him home. Unfortunately he’d been naked when they found him because the scrap of cloth Derek had given him in lieu of clothes didn’t stretch. Of course upon realizing he was naked, said cloth was used in a sad attempt to hide his manhood from sight before Derek shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over Stiles’s shoulders. Tall, dark and brooding even dained to carry a shoeless Stiles home to spare his feet. And if Stiles pressed his ear against Derek’s chest and counted his heartbeats along the way, well know one needed to know. 

Everyone had wanted an explanation of what happened and since most of the pack hadn’t even been made aware of his small situation that meant an entire recounting. Once Stiles had finished explaining what happened in the clearing it was Peter’s turn to be useful, for once. Turns out Beacon Hills preserve was watched over by a small clan on elves. 

The elves had lived in symbiotic harmony with the Hale pack, working to protect the territory. It wasn’t uncommon for them to test humans allowed into the pack to prove their worth, though it usually came with more warning. The pendant was a gift for earning their respect, it functioned as both a charm for luck and strength as well as a ward against malicious intent. 

Once explanations were out of the way everyone decided to crash in Stiles’s living room seeing as his dad was working late again according to the note on the fridge. Jackson and Lydia took the loveseat, Erica and Boyd curled up in the corner of the room, Isaac lay on one side of Scott with Allison on the other in the middle of the floor, Peter stretched out in the rocker, which left Stiles and Derek to lean against each other on the couch. Scott had raised an eyebrow at that, but otherwise no one questioned it. 

The next few days were a parade of apologies and negotiation. Erica and Boyd, who had both been MIA for the past few weeks had come running when they heard Stiles was in trouble. No doubt remembering the trouble with Gerard they weren’t going to be stopped from helping this time. Surprisingly it was Scott that pointed out that maybe it was proof enough for where their loyalties lied and convinced them to come back. Isaac was over the moon at their return and Scott’s acceptance of his place in the pack as Derek’s right hand and voice of reason. Jackson, with prompting from Lydia’s elbow, also asked for a place in the pack and was welcomed in easily enough. He would need to prove he deserved the pack’s trust to them but more so to himself and that would take time. But, things were looking up. Lydia and Allison were happy enough to be allies to the pack, but not ready to accept that life for themselves. Especially not after all Stiles had just gone though, and he hadn’t even been aware he was pack at the time!

All in all a very emotional week was had by all, tears were shed, hugs were had and much makeup up pizza was consumed. Now though, Stiles had found a moment to get away. He sat alone on a bench in the park, about 100 meters away from where it had happened, holding the cloth covered stone in his hands. It didn’t take long for his interlude to be interrupted though. 

‘So, we haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet …’ Derek trailed off as he sat down never to Stiles. 

‘Oh no, can we not, not yet anyway, I didn’t even realize I was pack or how much I cared about you until a week ago and I just. I know the elf said that I need to trust in love or whatever but that doesn’t mean that I’m just going to throw myself at you! I mean I want to but, if you haven’t noticed when I love, I love hard! And I’m not saying that you have to earn it but I am saying that it would be nice to build up to it. If you even want me, I mean, no one said you have to feel the same way or that you-’ 

‘Stiles!’ Derek reached out and grabbed one of Stiles’s hands, exposing the stone and cloth in his other hand. They both stared down at the Triskelion etched into the stone and let the weight of everything Stiles had just word vomited hang in the air between them. 

‘That’s not what I was gonna-’ Derek sigh came out as more of a frustrated growl. ‘I wanted to say that if you ever did anything so stupid as to let yourself get kidnapped again I will find you and personally rip your throat out.’ The laugh that Stiles barked out at that eased the tension a fraction. 

‘With your teeth?’ Stiles smiled. 

‘Yeah …Stiles, the pack needs you. I need you.’ Derek paused, taking in a heavy breath as if having this discussion was physically painful for him. ‘That fabric, it was one of my favorite shirts. It got torn in a fight with Peter, but I didn’t have the heart to throw it away. I slept in it. But then you needed something to wear. I could have given you anything, but I wanted you to smell like comfort … like me. So I shredded it for you.’ His face was turned down, easier to admit his motives to the scrap of clothing then face Stiles. 

Out of the corner of his eye Stiles thought he saw the tail of a black cat disappearing into the tree line. 

‘Thank you.’ Stiles whispered as he squeezed the hand Derek was still holding.

**Author's Note:**

> Considering continuing this and moving it from pre to actual slash. Leave me a comment and lemme know what you think ;)


End file.
